And I've Hurt Myself By Hurting You
by darkcurls-and-hazeleyes
Summary: '"Why are you leaving? You don't have to leave, Kurt." Blaine fluttered his hands, desperately trying to stop his boyfriend from doing what he was about to do.' future!Klaine. Hints of character death.


"Kurt, wait-"

"Don't touch me, Blaine. Just get away."

Blaine cringed at the venom that laced Kurt's tone. He watched as he walked over to the closet, wrenched the door open, and pulled the suitcase down, wincing as is slipped and hit the ground with a _thud_. Kurt cussed and inspected his finger, bringing it to his mouth to soothe the sting.

"Why are you leaving? You don't have to leave, Kurt." Blaine fluttered his hands, desperately trying to stop his boyfriend from doing what he was about to do. But Kurt didn't listen, instead opening the suitcase and stomping over to Blaine's chest of drawers where he began ripping them open and grabbing handfuls of his own clothes, not bothering to keep them neat. He shoved them in the suitcase, bunching them into the corners, and went back for more. And all Blaine could do was watch and try desperately to keep the tears from overflowing.

"Where will you go?" Blaine eventually asked, his voice low for fear of it breaking. Kurt mashed his lips together and set his jaw, intent on not speaking. Blaine wiped his eye.

"At least tell me where you're going, Kurt," he said. "I want to know that you'll be okay."

"You want to know so you can follow me," Kurt said blankly, like he wasn't talking to anyone. Blaine immediately shook his head.

"Not if you don't want me to. I just... I need to know that you'll be okay."

"I'll be fine," Kurt replied, and his voice shook. Blaine wanted to wrap his arms around him, but he knew he wasn't allowed to anymore.

"Is this it, then?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Kurt threw the handfuls he had down and put his hands on his hips, looking Blaine in the eye.

"I don't know, Blaine. Is it? Do you want it to be? I sure didn't wake up this morning expecting to want to push you away but here I am, and I'm going, so you tell me." Each word was like a slap to the face, and Blaine didn't even try to stop the tears now.

"I don't want it to be," he said, voice getting more desperate. Kurt looked down, let his hands drop, and sniffed, before going back to packing.

"Yeah, well, you should've thought of that."

He zipped up his suitcase and hauled it off the bed and towards the door. Blaine followed him down the hall and towards the front door. Kurt paused, then grabbed his keys out of the bowl next to the door and grasped the handle. Blaine heard him take a shaky breath.

"Don't follow me," he said brokenly, kicking the screen door open and then he was gone. Blaine stayed glued to his spot as he listen to Kurt open the trunk, shove his suitcase in, slam it closed, get in the car, turn on the engine, back out of the drive and speed off down the road. He stood there for a while afterwards, staring at the space under the door where the floor turned orange and then pink as the sun slowly sank on the horizon, unmoving, not crying, no nothing.

When the door opened about half an hour later and Cooper skipped in, beaming, Blaine didn't move. Cooper's face dropped.

"Blaine?" he said. Blaine shook his head slowly and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He looked at his brother with big, tear-filled eyes.

"Blaine, where's Kurt?" Cooper asked. Blaine clenched his fists, and then unclenched them, and then clenched them again. His fingernails left tiny crescent-shaped marks in his palms.

"Did he leave?" Cooper asked gently, glancing at the bowl next to the door. It was empty, because Blaine kept his keys on a hook in their—_his_—bedroom. Cooper pursed his lips and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Do you... wanna talk?"

Blaine shook his head, and silently reached into his pocket to find his phone. He unlocked the screen on the third try, opened his messages and brought up the one labelled _Sebastian_. He didn't look at the screen because he didn't want to see the texts, didn't want to see the dirty words and misshapen words that were lust-jumbled.

_That's all it was,_ Blaine kept telling himself. _Lust, lust, it was all lust._

"Blaine, you..." Cooper trailed off, staring wide-eyed at his brother. "How- why?"

Blaine's shoulders slumped. Cooper put the phone down on the pine table next to the door and leaned heavily against the wall, running a hand through his hair. Neither of them registered the sound of two car doors thudding shut out the front, but they both jumped when there was a knock at the door. Cooper reached for the handle but Blaine beat him to it, wrenching the door open so hard that it could've come off the hinges. In front of him stood two men in blue shirts and hats and black boots. Blaine's hope fizzled out.

"Are you the husband of Kurt Hummel?" one of the men asked.

"Fiancée," Blaine choked. Cooper put a hand over his own mouth.

"My name's Officer Bray and this is my partner Officer Brandt. I'm afraid we have some bad news."


End file.
